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WANODAH 

AND OTHER POEMS 




















Margaret Drake DeGroot 






WANODAH 

AND OTHER POEMS 


BY 

MARGARET DRAKE DeGROOT 

A 



BOSTON 

THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY 
1923 


Copyright, 1923, by 
The Four Seas Company 


7 - 5 W 

. £3 74- V/3 
/? 2-3 


Transferred ffem 
Copyrigi't OffFe 

* 17 *9t 


Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 
The Four Seas Press 


©C1A800167 

M 14 *21 


'Ho { 



TO MY HUSBAND AND CHILDREN 

WHOSE LOVING ENCOURAGEMENT AND AID HAVE MADE 
POSSIBLE THE PUBLICATION OF THIS VOLUME 
IT IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 


FOREWORD 


The cordiality with which the author’s heretofore 
published verses have been received has decided 
her to issue them in this more permanent form. 
Some of these verses have appeared from time to 
time in newspapers and other periodicals. Others 
are here presented to the public for the first time. 

Margaret Drake DeGroot 

Quincy, Illinois, 

July 24, 1923 


CONTENTS 

POEMS OF NATURE 


Page 

Wanodah ...... 11 

The Poet ...... 24 

Nature’s Heart ..... 27 

Wind Voices ..... 28 

Summer ...... 30 

The Caged Mocking Bird .... 31 

Clouds ...... 33 

To Halley’s Comet, May 12, 1902 ... 35 

Birth of the Water Lily .... 36 

February ...... 38 

The Valley of Thought .... 40 

Motion ...... 41 

The Mountain Region of North Carolina . . 43 

To the Mississippi River .... 45 

A Fragment of June ..... 46 

POEMS OF PATRIOTISM 

The American Eagle in the Spanish American War 49 
Columbia and Universal Peace ... 51 

Our Country ...... 53 

Columbus ...... 56 

Washington ...... 57 

Queen of the West ..... 59 

Steady, O Ship of State! .... 61 

To the Statue of George Rogers Clark . . 62 

My Boys in Khaki ..... 64 

When God Commands (Written in 1916) . . 66 

A Prayer, 1917 ..... 68 

Our Soldiers . • • • • • 70 








POEMS OF FAITH AND ASPIRATION 


Life and Thought ..... 75 

The Soul’s Cry ..... 76 

The Pilot’s Reply ..... 78 

A Dream . . . . . . 80 

Christmas Bells ..... 82 

Christmas Musings, 1899 .... 83 

For the Philathea Banquet .... 85 

Memory’s Hour ..... 87 

A Reverie ...... 88 

A Memory of the World’s Fair ... 90 

Dreaming ...... 92 

The Spirit World ..... 94 

Hail! Farewell! Hail! .... 95 

The Presence of Jesus .... 96 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Written for the Reunion of the Graham Families 99 

For the Twentieth Anniversary of the Woman’s 

Club of Downer’s Grove, Illinois . . 101 

Response to Toast, “The Eastern Star” . . 103 

What the Clock Says in the Night Watches . 104 

In Days Agone .... 105 

To E. H. D., Jr. ‘ * 107 

A Valentine to Beth ..... 108 

A Valentine to Ruth ..... 109 

To J. L. D. ...... 110 

Friends of Other Years .... m 

To C. E. H. ...... 112 

To Mrs. L. A. on Her Eighty-fifth Birthday . 113 

Sympathy ...... n 5 

Greeting Ode ...... ng 








POEMS OF NATURE 











WANODAH 

Long years agone, beside the shore 
Of Michigan's blue wave, 

A wise and aged Sagamore, 

Wanodah Seer, and Brave, 

Dwelt with his people, counseled them, 

And ruled them by his words sublime 
Of wisdom deep and true, as time 
And years went by. 

No more he led them in the chase, 

When the fleet deer they sought; 

Nor in the battle’s fiercest place 
With swift destruction wrought; 

But seated by his wigwam door 
Or on the pebbled wave-washed shore, 
When holy calm and night came o’er 
The sea and sky, 

He told them of the mighty deeds 
Of braves in ages past; 

How through the tall, dank morass reeds 
And o’er the prairies vast, 

They chased the untamed buffalo 
Whose mighty trampling hosts they slew; 
And eagles soaring through the blue 
Fell, arrow-pierced. 

How through the forest dark and wild 
Where giant trees outspread, 

And tangled fens where silent coiled 
The spotted snake in hidden bed, 

They trailed the panther and the bear 
To cave and den, and darkened lair, 

And slew them,—crouched in ambush there 
For blood athirst. 

tin 


How the Great Spirit smiled on them, 

And the green maize grew tall 
And straight, where sheathed and bannered stem 
Bowed lightly, each to all; 

While rocked by breezes soft and mild, 

And warmed by summer suns that smiled, 

Nor ever torn by tempests wild, 

The white ears grew. 

And in swift-flying birch canoes 
They rode the saltless seas, 

And skimmed the crested feathery waves 
As birds fly o’er the leas; 

Free as the winds of heaven, and brave 
As warriors who fear nothing, save 
The brand of cowardice or knave, 

As red men do. 

The wild waves rolled in playful glee, 

The free winds sang to them, 

The clouds that floated o’er the sea 
Brought shade and shower and balm; 

The myriad stars that watched on high 
Spoke to them softly, silently, 

Of the Great Spirit ever nigh 
To bless the brave. 

One day—from the great far-off land 
That first the sun shines on 
And turns to gold the glittering sand 
With lances bright and long; 

When waking from his nightly sleep 
He springs up from the watery deep, 

While roseate hues fill heaven’s blue steep 
And dye the wave— 

Came stranger warriors unto them, 

Came o’er the waters blue, 

And gliding to the land’s low hem 
Stepped from each birch canoe. 

[ 12 ] 


In peace they came, in peace were met, 
And guided to the lodge where yet 
The stately chief in quiet sat, 

To welcome them. 

The calumet was handed round, 

They smoked in silence, all, 

While seated on the turfted ground 
Beneath the green trees tall: 

The summer breezes round them played, 
Above, the lofty branches swayed, 

While the blue waves soft music made, 

In lapsing chime. 

Then spake one stranger-brave and told 
How from their far-off land 
They journeyed while the days were cold, 
E’er yet the icy hand 
Of winter loosed from streams and leas 
His deadening grasp, or yet the trees 
Had waked a bud, or from the seas 
Had soft wind blown. 

They bade not wife or child farewell; 

None but their great chief knew 
The why, or where their journey fell, 

Or when they passed from view: 

Soft shone the star-lamps overhead 
To guide them as they swiftly sped 
With springing step, and noiseless tread 
The wood-paths down. 

And many suns had come and gone, 

And moons had waxed and died 
While through the forests dark and lone, 
O’er mountains high and wide, 

O’er river, treacherous bog, and plain 
They passed, and ever hoped to gain 
The farthest shore, the shining main 
Where sinks the sun, 

[13] 


To sleep, in bed of burning gold 
With crimson curtains, bound 
With sapphire hues, and fold on fold 
Of amber shimmering round; 

Then draws night’s shadows after him,— 
Close folded round the earth’s broad rim— 
When wearied with his journey through 
The trackless heavens and deeps of blue 
He slowly hides himself from view, 

And day is done. 

Still spake the stranger brave, and said, 

One day in their far land 
A wandering wind had idly played 
In the dark forest grand; 

And to the pine trees told his name, 

And of his home, from whence he came, 
Where giant mountains tower, aflame 
With light of day. 

And many tales of wondrous lands 
He whispered to the pines— 

Of saltless seas, and green-fringed strands, 
Of fertile plains stretched wide; 

Of rivers rolling deep and free, 

And mountains towering to the sky, 

Where neither leaf, nor shrub, nor tree 
May grow, but snows forever lie; 

Of burning sands, and geysers dread, 

By demon fires kept hot and fed; 

And vales where living men ne’er tread; 
Where death holds sway.* 

And of the mystic sea of gold, 

With flaming glories crowned 
Where sea and sky together fold, 

And all their wondrous mysteries hold 
Where sinks the sun to rest and sleep: 

* Death Valley 


[ 14 ] 


There, on that bright resplendent deep 
A swift canoe all gleaming rides; 

Drawn by white swans it ever glides 
Noiselessly on those golden tides 
And wondrous waves. 

And the fleet brave who first shall reach 
That shore at set of sun, 

And stand unfearing on the beach, 
Motionless, and alone, 

While the white swans bring to his feet 
The weird canoe, shall sit and ride 
In its swift prow across that sea, 

And to its farthest rim shall glide 
O’er waves of gold and chrysolite, 
Through opal tints, and amber gleams,— 
Where sea and sky mingle and meet 
And crimson glory fades and flames; 

And piercing lances long and bright, 
Far-reaching throw their wondrous light 
Adown the shores of time and night 
O’er countless graves. 

And to him there shall wisdom great 
Be given, and he shall see 
Far down the future years, that wait 
All full of destiny 
For the red men of forests deep, 

And roaming o’er the plain, 

And on the mountain’s towering steep, 
And skimming o’er the main,— 

A strange and mournful destiny 
For them, so strong, so blest, so free! 

And eagle-eyed the brave must be 
Who looks it o’er. 

All this the soft wind whispered to 
The pine trees of the wood; 

The braves who heard it whispering low 
Beneath the pine trees stood. 

[15] 


And now they seek to find the spot 
Where all these mystic wonders are; 
Tomorrow they must linger not, 

But journey on, afar, afar 

Toward the west, from whence the wind, 

And whence the sunset glories shined: 

And ever journey till they find 
The wondrous shore. 

* * * * 

Wanodah as the years rolled on 
More wise in knowledge grew; 

Twelve hundred moons had come and gone 
Since first life’s breath he drew; 

But little was his tall form bent, 

The lightning of his eye unspent 
As through the forest wilds he went, 

With deep thoughts pressed. 

Prophetic voices soft and low 
Oft wh'spered in his ear: 

Like winged bees would come and go 
Their murmur far and near: 

They mingled with the evening breeze— 
Soft stirring all the forest trees— 

Or lapsing waves of swelling seas 
That m ver rest. 

Prom all the soulful sounds that spoke 
To red men long ago 
In Nature’s rhythmic voices, broke 
These haunting tones of woe: 

Wanodah’s soul was stirred with grief, 

His heart oppressed with awe; 

The mystery he strove to read, 

The fated doom to know; 

In the still night he could not sleep, 

But when the spectral shades would creep 
To westward and the glad waves leap 
To meet the mom, 

[ 16 ] 


He by the saltless sea would tread 
And listen to the song 
Of waves that left their blue sea-bed 
To break in spray upon 
His feet, while ever whispering low 
Of the dim future full of woe 
For all his race;—he sought to know 
Its meaning plain. 


He asked the wind, the moon, the stars, 
The silent depths of blue, 

The river with its rocky bars, 

And waters flashing through: 

The sighing wind still sang its song, 

The pitying moon looked down, 

The changeless stars all silent hung, 

And sent no answering tone. 

The sapphire depths no voice returned, 
The river gave no sign; 

Wanodah’s soul within him burned 
With deeper glow divine; 

Then in the forest’s solemn shade 
He knelt, to the Great Spirit prayed 
That He would show the mystery dread, 
The doom make known. 


Long stayed he in the forest deep; 

The dark night wrapped him round; 

Still his lone vigil did he keep, 

Low seated on the ground; 

The weird owl spoke with mournful cry, 
Perched in the oak-tree’s branches wide; 
The gray wolf’s hungry howl came nigh, 
Borne on the still air down the glade: 

Deep in the night a crackling sound 
And mighty crash startled the gloom, 
When on the turf and leaf-strewn ground 
A great oak bowed to time, and doom. 


The ghostly shadows blacker grew, 

Save where the stars’ light shimmered through— 
Whose watch-fires in the heights of blue 
Eternal shone. 

The glorious dawn came o’er the sea, 

And touched the earth with light; 

Threw wide morn’s pearly gates, and free 
And far her trailing banners bright, 

Of gold and roseate hues and bars, 

Streamed out into the sapphire deeps, 

And waked the breezes, hid the stars, 

And swept night’s shadows down the steeps: 
Softly the forest leaves were stirred; 

Soon wakened every minstrel bird, 

And waves of melody were poured 
In joyous song. 

Wanodah came at set of sun 
Unto the restless sea; 

Slowly he walked, and stood as one 
Who sees, yet does not see; 

Around him came his warriors then, 

The maidens, and the wives; 

They loved their chief; those fierce red men 
For him would yield their lives : 

But now they gazed at him with awe, 

And stood in reverent silence by; 

For on his noble brow they saw 
The mystic seal of prophesy. 

He stretched his hand toward the sea— 

The purple mists hung darkly there, 

Like veils that shroud futurity, 

And shut the prying gaze out, where 
The present meets with the beyond, 

As meet the rolling sea and sky 
At the horizon’s farthest bound, 

And baffle still the searching eye. 

His eyes pierced through the mist, and veil, 

[ 18 ] 


And as he looked his cheek grew pale; 

His lips moved in impassioned wail 
And utterance strong. 

wanodah’s vision 

“They come! Great, moving, strange-shaped 
things 

With motionless and outstretched wings 
Come o’er the waters deep and wide! 

Are they pale gods that on them ride? 

Or warriors with faces white, 

And cruel hearts, and arms of might? 

They come! I see them fill our land! 

They crowd us back! My warriors, stand! 

Meet them with poisoned shaft and bow: 

Meet them as red men meet the foe! 

From the great forest, and the plain, 

Come! Drive them back across the main! 

“All vain: ye cannot stay them. Where 
They stand dark grows the startled air 
With smoke and noise that strike to slay 
All that oppose their onward way. 

“Look! Listen! What is that I hear? 

Time’s mighty changes: year on year 
Rolls by with noise of thunder-sound, 

Like waters on a shore, rock-bound. 

Where are the warriors of the wood 
And plain? ’T was here their lodges stood: 
Gone! like the leaves of summers past; 

Gone! swept away by treachery’s blast; 

Ground ’neath the haughty white man’s tread 
Lies even their dust,—graves of their dead! 

“I see great dazzling piles of stone,* 

And towers that gleam, where white clouds shone 
By the deep waters! Look! far back 
Over the plain the bison’s track 


* Chicago 


[ 19 ] 


Is seen no more! The forest trees 

Are gone! The wind and whispering breeze 

Wail round dark frowning walls of stone, 

That list not their complaining moan. 

“Is that the noise of whirling wind 
That twists the giant oak, and rends 
The tall pine, when the Great Spirit shows 
His anger to His evil foes? 

Listen! the roar is not of wind, 

But sound of wheels on stones that grind; 

And bells, and many voices strange, 

And whining sounds that mix and change. 
Strange forms are there that move and go 
With breath of smoke, and fiery glow; 

Now swifter than the eagle’s flight, 

Now slowly creep with curbed might. 

“The hurrying ages sound a knell. 

Lo! Through the air its dire notes swell! 

And from the depths, the far, the near, 

Float tones that prophet ears can hear. 

List! from the vast 
Abysmal caverns of the Past— 

Where the gulfed years in shadows throng— 
Comes wailing up the cry of wrong! 

Of broken treaties where broad lands 

Were wrenched by force from weakening hands. 

And through the darkening air comes near 

The moan of warriors slaughtered, where 

In fortress strong or wooded path 

The pale-faced braves they met in faith:— 

Of famished children left to die 
In wintry lands when snows piled high. 

“On, doomful years! Ye cannot bring 
Aught now that can appal, or wring 
With anguish more, the red man’s heart. 

Of the dead past he is a part,— 

[ 20 ] 


Sunk in the hardening sands of Time,— 

A stepping-stone to men that climb, 

And think, and dare, and grappling wrest 
Deep secrets from great Nature’s breast. 
The fiery lightning tamely creeps! 

It leaves its clouds and billowy steeps 
And mighty thunder’s crashing roar, 

To speak their words, and own their power! 

“Where the strong eagle winged his flight 
Swift barks are sailing through the light! 

In caverned depths of earth below 
The lightning-speeded carriers go! 

There points a weird form to the sky 
And brings great rolling worlds anigh, 

With rivers long, and forest trees, 

And wondrous plains, and gleaming seas! 
Down from that distant shining star 
Falls the faint sounds of life afar!” 

Wanodah’s voice grew low and faint; 

His eyes still gazed afar, 

Still fixed on what he strove to paint,— 
Those visions passing there. 

Then low he sank upon the sand: 

All reft of strength was he; 

Close round him came that warrior band 
Swiftly and silently: 

And swiftly, yet with noiseless tread, 

The dark-browed maidens near him spread 
Of bear and bison skins a bed 
Where he might rest. 

With tender hands his warriors laid 
Him on that regal couch, 

While night drew ’round her curtaining shade, 
And soothed with dewy touch 
The sea and land: Lo! bright and far 
Glittered and gleamed the evening star, 

[ 21 ] 


Where the cleft mist rolled wide ajar 
Its riven crest. 

With one long sigh Wanodah’s soul 
Went out into the Vast. 

Near where the sea-waves ceaseless roll 
And their white spray-wreaths cast, 
Those warriors his deep grave made— 
With furry skins soft lined—; 

While bow and shaft, and tomahawk, 

And wampum strings entwined, 

And pemican, they brought for him, 

And plumes in his long locks to braid: 

Then with his totem robe o’erspread, 

With mournful dirge and chant, they laid 
Him low to sleep. 

* * # * 

Now fateful centuries have fled, 

And left vast changes wrought; 

Lo! a great city lies outspread 
’Round that lone burial spot, 

Where the blue waves, no longer free, 
’Gainst pier and sea-wall fret: 

And unchained winds from o’er the sea 
Seek lea and forest yet,— 

Complaining round the walls of stone 
With sigh, and wail, and sobbing moan, 
Like wandering souls, that seek their own, 
From out the deep. 

And when the city sleeping lies, 

All hushed in night’s deep calm, 

From heights of the mysterious skies 
The changeless stars look down— 

The same eternal stars that swung 
Through the dusk arches of the night, 
Above the red man’s tented home, 

And the startled night-bird’s flight. 

Oft the lone watchman on his beat, 

At midnight’s spectral hour, 

[ 22 ] 


Sees standing in the silent street, 

Gazing at dome and tower, 

Or gliding swiftly, silently, 

By the low wall that curbs the sea, 

A tall and stately form, and free, 

Of Indian mold. 

A broidered totem robe he wears 
Around his shoulders thrown: 

The aspect of a king he bears, 

A king without a crown. 

Whence comes he? Whither does he go? 
Ask the dusk glooms that wrap the sea; 
Or the dark, baffling mystery 
That wraps Life, Death, and that eternity 
Where the wide Past, and the To Be, 

In one are rolled. 


[ 23 ] 


THE POET 


Whence come the thoughts and fancies 
That surge through the Poet’s soul, 

Bright as the lightning’s glances, 

Grand as the thunder’s roll; 

High as the heights of Heaven, 

Deep as the depths of woe; 

Changing like hues of even, 

Brief as the sunset’s glow? 

He hath gone deep down in the mines of thought, 
Its hidden gems to the light hath brought; 

He hath reached the stars with his subtle brain; 
From their circling orbs caught a deep refrain: 

A soul came from the Lord; a breath, a thought, 
Exhaled from His pure Presence, floated out 
And into form of living spirit came; 

Then spotless, pure, and bright, he wandered on 
Where the white light of God fills all the great 
unknown— 

Past rolling orbs that gleam, and suns aflame 
With molten fires that pierce th’ empyrean steeps, 
And circle in their vast and rhythmic sweeps 
Through the infinite deeps: 

Where fire-mist worlds, just launched awhirl, 
Their violet and amber myst’ries swirl,— 
Tremulous with joy, their untried paths to trace: 
And mingling lights from many a distant star, 

In quivering, tangled lances from afar, 

Glimmered and shone through intervening space: 
And round him fell like trailing garments bright 
Those iridescent hues of woven light 
That never know the night. 

Still on he drew—obedient to the hand 
That holds the circling systems in command, 
[ 24 ] 


And gives to each his own appointed way— 
Awhile the music of the rhythmic spheres, 

Deep swelling through the far, eternal years, 
Bathed him in all its melody sublime, 

That breaks unheard against the shores of Time; 
Unheard its glorious chime. 

So came this soul to Earth; took form of man, 
Was born to walk Earth’s paths for life’s brief span 
And wear man’s dual crown of joy and woe; 

But ever with him dwells through changing years 
The faint, sweet memory of the distant spheres, 
And colours all Earth’s scenes with heavenly glow: 
In all the myriad charms of sunset dyes,— 

In tinted clouds afloat in azure skies; 

In the returning miracle of spring— 

The resurrection and awakening 

Of Earth from wintry death, to summer’s warm, 

Full pulsing life of passion, and of charm: 

In purple heights that melt in sapphire deeps, 
And lowly vales where golden sunshine sleeps, 
He sees faint reflex of that radiance bright, 
(And haunting memories of the infinite) 

And the far fields of light. 

In the hoarse moaning winds that sweep amain, 
Or the soft music of downrushing rain 
In its glad haste to meet earth’s warm embrace; 
In purling stream that sings in wooded spots 
To violets and sweet forget-me-nots, 

Its rippling lovesong filling all the place; 

In all, through all sweet sounds, he ever hears 
Soft echoes from the far-off interspheres, 

And the eternal years. 

To him is plain the language of the flowers 
And leaves, of birds and bees through summer 
hours; 

And all the myriad voices of the earth, 

The ceaseless murmur of the ocean waves 
[ 25 ] 


That whisper secrets of the coral caves, 

Where pearls lie hid and fair green isles have birth; 
The golden lances of the noonday sun, 

Or moonbeams pale, and starlight’s radiance spun, 
To him a message bring. 

All nature speaks, and he interpreting 
The mystic utterance, voices it in song: 

Then o’ er earth’s sordid strife it floats along 
Where weary toilers sigh, and the mad rush 
Of mammon’s slaves life’s holiest feelings crush. 

Its tender cadence falls, and when men hear, 
Their souls to pure and true impulses stir: 

And noble thoughts are born of melody 
And high truth in the Poet’s song; so he 
Fulfills his ministry. 


Sing on, O Poet, Minstrel, 

Above the noise and strife; 

The greed of gold that crushes 
All holier aims of life! 

Sing of diviner Duty, 

With man’s life interwove; 

Sing of earth’s mystic beauty, 

So full of life and love. 

Sing to the heights of Heaven! 

Low, reach the depths of woe! 

These both to man are given, 
Heights, darkest depths, to know. 

And if thine own heart acheth, 
Then better shalt thou sing. 

Aye! sweetest music waketh 
The heart-strings swept by pain. 


[ 26 ] 


NATURE’S HEART 


Is it in the deep, still woods, 

Or in the desert solitudes— 

In the hurricane’s wild might, 

Or in flaming boreal light— 

Throbs its mighty enginery, 

Pulsing full through Nature’s veins 
Life, till life triumphant reigns? 

Where dwells the great creative power, 

The Infinite, whose will alike 
Creates a world or forms a flower, 

Unchains the forces of the earthquake dread, 

Or plants the coral in the ocean bed; 

To whom the eons of Eternity 
Are as the passing of a summer day? 

Infinity of power—from whence came 
All thought, all action? Whence the flame 
That lit the fire-mist worlds—the Thought 
That, breathed on chaos, slowly wrought 
Completeness from the incomplete, and spheres 
Of beauty, rounding out through countless years? 
Whose vision pierces past the utmost bounds 
Of endless cycles, on through endless rounds 
Of cycling eternity, yet bends 
To note the sparrows fall and see 
The outstretched hand of suppliant humanity? 
Jehovah, God, is Nature’s heart 
Of whom all pulsing life is part! 


[ 27 ] 


WIND VOICES 


What are the wild winds saying 
As they sob and sough o’er the lea, 
With voices almost human? 

The wild winds minstrelsy; 

Like the moan of a tortured spirit— 

One moment wailing nigh, 

Then shrieking off in the distance, 
Through trackless space they fly. 

From the Frost King’s reachless fortress, 
Aflame with boreal light, 

And the iceberg’s dreary splendors, 
Comes the North wind in his might; 
He breathes, and the frightened waters 
Grow pale ’neath the veil he brings. 

His breath trails in icy fetters 
That far o’er the earth he flings. 


Like plaintive minor music 

Comes the voice of the sweet South wind, 
As he sighs for the tropic flowers 
And warm vales left behind; 

He breathes of orange blossoms, 

And sweet magnolia trees, 

And the mock-bird’s vesper love song, 

Borne out on the evening breeze. 


The East wind wails round the cornice, 

His breath is damp with rain; 

Of the billowy sea he telleth, 

And the leagues of misty main; 

The brown leaves dance in his pathway 
Their whirling dance of death; 

The stripped trees shiver, and moan, and sway, 
At the touch of his chilling breath. 

[ 28 ] 


The West wind breathes his story 
Of the far Pacific shore, 

Of snow-capped mountains hoary, 

And wide plains spreading far, 

Where the free winds meet and revel, 

And the hurricane has birth 
When kindling clouds in their mad glee swirl 
With the storm king in his mirth. 








[ 29 ] 


SUMMER 


She came to us so wondrous fair, 

With full flood-tides of beauty rare; 
Transfusing life through earth and sea 
With miracles of alchemy. 

Her trailing robes of brightest bloom 
Were wove in Nature’s mystic loom; 

Her perfumed breath like tropic flowers; 

Her retinue of golden hours 
And birds, and bees, and fluttering things 
That flashed the light from glinting wings. 
The zephyrs came with soft caress; 

The blue sky bent as if to bless; 

A thousand forms of happy life 
Woke at her touch. All earth seemed rife 
With joy and love, nor dreamed that blight 
Could touch this form of life and light; 

Nor dreamed there lurked a cruel foe 
With gleaming blade to lay her low. 

I saw her next when cold and dead 
She lay upon a mossy bed; 

Some brown leaves wreathed about her brow, 
No perfume on her white lips now; 

Still on her breast the frost blades lay, 

Just where the foe had struck to slay. 

Fled was the retinue so bright, 

The forms of life and wings of light; 
Black-bannered clouds their dark pall hung, 
While wailing winds her requiem sung. 

They wove her shroud of drifting snow, 

In the yawning past they laid her low. 


[ 30 ] 


THE CAGED MOCKING-BIRD* 


Above me bends the soft blue sky, 

And near the waving branches green 
Their cool shade give; the gentle wind 
Comes whispering of the bloomy sheen 
Of fragrant honeysuckle bowers 
And the free flashing mountain stream. 

The white magnolia opes her heart 
Of gold to the sweet south wind’s kiss, 

And sways in languid joy, to dream 
Where the warm, loving sunbeams glance, 
And shifting shadows wave and dance. 

Away! I’ll leave these prison glooms! 

I’ll swing in green magnolia trees! 

I’ll gain the honeysuckle blooms 
And in their dewy fragrance bathe 
My fevered, trembling wings! When night 
Fills all the circling purple steep, 

I’ll sing the yellow moon to sleep 
With rapturous song! Up! up in flight! 

Alas! My bruised and maimed wings! 

These cruel bars my flight restrain! 

List! A note from yonder copse 
Quick answering to my anguished cry! 

It nearer comes, nearer, and stops 
Beside my prison strong. Ah! friend, 

How vain thy sympathy! Alone 
By death my freedom may be won. 

Go, friend, the poison berry bring. 

* It is said that if a cage containing a mocking-bird is 
hung out under the trees in the South, the wild mocking¬ 
birds will come near the cage and seemingly express 
sympathy for the imprisoned one; then fly away and return 
with a poison berry, which the little prisoner eats—and 
dies. 


My captors think I sing; 

They say, ‘With music’s sweet delights 
Our caged mocking-bird requites.* 

*T is but despair voiced in song 
They hear. Go on swift wing, 

Sweet friend, the poison berry bring! 

I’ll spurn these prison bars, 

And to my honeysuckle stars, 

And green and white magnolia trees, 
Beneath the soft, blue Southern sky, 
Free, free in death, I’ll fly! 


[ 32 ] 


CLOUDS 


The night is drear, the murky clouds 
Have hid the light of moon and star; 

Like restless ghosts in misty shrouds 
The silent-moving fog-wreaths are: 
Complaining winds make voiceful moan, 

The leafless trees in answer groan; 

And storm and darkness reign alone. 

While gazing through my window-pane, 

Into the night of cloud and gloom, 

I know that in some happy clime 

Bright sunlight falls o’er fields of bloom; 
While birds and bees through golden hours 
Wing happy flights among the flowers, 

Or rest within the leafy bowers. 

My soul looks through her casement bars 
Into the night that girds her round, 

And sees not light of moon or stars— 

With Stygian clouds envirdned, bound. 

The deepening darkness, drear and dread, 

Pills all the space; the light has fled. 

Yet stands my soul undaunted there, 

For well she knows beyond the night, 

Upon some happy, distant sphere, 

Are life, and love, and bloom, and light, 

And all the pent soul longs for here: 

While Faith’s bright lamp within her burns, 
Life’s mystery into radiance turns. 

As through the mystery of the tomb 

Comes life from death, and light from gloom, 
On some bright day, in some bright sphere, 
Our eyes shall see all mysteries clear. 

For God is God, and reigns above, 

And through His hand the cycles move, 
Unfolding still Infinite love. 

[ 33 ] 


O soul, upborne by courage high! 

The courage born of Faith and Hope; 
Earth’s dark environment defy 

To wrest thee from Christ’s mighty love, 
Or hold thee from thine upward flight, 
Afar from earth, and clouds, and night, 
To perfect life, in perfect light. 


t 


[ 34 ] 


TO HALLEY’S COMET 

(Written May 12, 1910) 

Hail! wanderer bright, with your starry light, 

And far trailing breath, fraught with blessing or 
death. 

Why this ceaseless quest with no halting or rest, 

Through infinite deeps that your mystery keeps? 

What seek you, that through Time’s long aeons 
you go 

With unwearied force on your star-strewn course? 

Seek you rest, restless one, in your wanderings 
long 

Through the spaces afar, past the uttermost star? 


Where Abraham slept, or his night-watches kept 
On Mamre’s plain, in the ages agone, 

Did your wonderous blaze meet his upturned gaze 
In the star-gemmed height of some Judean night? 
Did you pilot the quest of the wise men blest, 
When seeking the King in a low manger lain— 
Then rush far again from the vision of men 
Ere they lifted Him high, on the rude cross to die? 


O wanderer strange, of an infinite range, 

Bring you blessing or blight in your fast nearing 
flight? 

We shall live when your light is but darkness 
again, 

Or you find your first rest in the fiery breast 

Of some vast flaming sun, and your long quest is 
done. 

We shall live while new suns shall burn out and 
grow cold, 

When the old becomes new and the new again old. 

We shall live while God lives, O wanderer bright. 

With the far trailing breath and the starry light. 

[ 35 ] 


BIRTH OP THE WATER LILY 
O lily fair, 

Can aught in Heaven excel 
Thy beauty rare? 

Thy silken petals fold 
A tremulous heart of gold,— 

Where hidden glories dwell,— 

Caught from a sunset sky 
Of amber dye. 

O lily fair, 

Have angels passed this way, 

And from their garlands bright 
Let fall these drops of light 
And bloom so rare? 

Or came ye forth to meet 
The touch of angel feet, 

For one swift moment pressed 
On waters blest? 

Forth from the gates of light 
An angel passed one day,— 

Swift through the azure skies 
To where the sunset dyes 
Bathed all his garments white 
In gold and purple light; 

Through quivering bars of amethyst hue, 
Opaline, amber, gold, and blue, 

Swiftly he passed. 

Swift o’er the city proud 
The angel passed, nor paused, 

But to the surging crowd 
One glance of pity gave: 

O’er towers and turrets tall, 

O’er dome and marble hall, 

Where avarice reigns, and merciless greed 
Crushes out human life and need, 

Swiftly he passed, 

[ 36 ] 


To where a valley fair 
Lay like a prisoned gem 
Between tall mountain heights,— 

Still bathed in sunset lights; 

And like a diamond rare 
A little lakelet there 

Lay quivering under the evening breeze— 
Languidly stirring lake and trees; 

Softly he paused. 

Sweet was the mystic spot, 

The angel felt its power; 

Folding his pinions now, 

Low bent his radiant brow; 

Once touched his shining feet 
That tranquil sleeping wave; 

One startled kiss it gave, 

One mystical moment of thrilling delight, 

And lo! on its bosom bloomed 
Lilies of light! 

Then from the evening sky 
Caught he the amber dye, 

And in each Lily-breast— 

Trembling in sweet unrest— 

Left he the tint of gold; 

Perfect they now unfold; 

Their wondrous beauty links heaven and earth, 
And blest is the spot where the 
Lilies had birth. 


[ 37 ] 


FEBRUARY 


The wind is moaning through the trees, 
The leafless trees and bare. 

The snow lies glistening on the leas 
In fleecy billows, and the breeze 
Has tossed the feathery flakes and made 
Low hills and hollows in the glade; 

While noontide sunbeams flash and fade 
Among the branches there. 

The jay flits by on azure wings 
That match a summer sky; 

His shrill voice through the wide air rings, 
As on a swaying branch he swings; 

And far across a stretch of snow 
In answer caws a querulous crow, 

Whose sable comrades, circling low, 
Repeat the changeless cry. 

The days hold mystic hints that thrill 
The air impalpably, 

And with prophetic promise still 
Brood over vale and snow-clad hill. 

The prisoned waters wake and move, 
Reach out to find the widening groove, 
Then eddy swiftly to the cove, 

Rejoicing to be free. 

The warm sap stirs low in the mold, 
Touched by the subtle spell; 

Life trembles in earth’s underfold, 

Where fibered roots its pulses hold; 

And sealed aurelias silent lie 
Beside the kindred mystery 
Of leaf and branch, and towering tree, 

In buried seed and cell. 

While happy earth in ether deeps 
Rolls on her sunbright way; 

[ 38 ] 


By milestones—through the starry steeps— 
Of measured seasons, still she sweeps; 

Nor haste, nor loitering is hers, 

Through long unknown, uncounted years, 
That range infinity. 


[ 39 ] 


THE VALLEY OF THOUGHT 

There’s an enchanted valley where sometimes I 
stray, 

Shut in from Earth’s clamor and strife; 

Far removed from the haunts of the thoughtless 
and gay, 

And the soul-wearing burdens of life. 

The sunbeams fall there with the secret of light 

Folded up in their bars of gold: 

The star-lighted shades of each peace-brooding 
night 

Their lessons of wisdom unfold. 

There the winds wake to music sweet chords that 
were heard 

To tremble with joy long ago, 

When the morning stars sang, and the sons of the 
Lord 

Shouted back their glad paeans below. 

In those shadowy nooks are weird pictures un¬ 
rolled, 

Of deeds, and of men passed away— 

Where the shimmering light from the centuries 
old 

Sifts through with its time-softened ray. 

A magical place is this enchanted vale, 

This quiet sequestered spot. 

Its deep hidden fountains of peace never fail, 

This mystical valley of Thought. 


[40] 


MOTION 


Seas ebb and flow, moons wax and wane, 

The circling planets rest not as they roll. 

Suns flame in far off depths, and stay 
Not in their ceaseless sweeps athwart the vast! 
While giant systems keep their endless quest 
Through unimagined gulfs of cosmic space, 

And rush with puisance through the star-sown 
maze 

And limitless expanse. 


Eternal motion through creation runs; 

Minutest atoms move in their unrest. 

Impulsed to constant change of poise, 

Though circumscribed infinites’mally, 

To their small orbits true they ever range. 

All things their motion keep; the wondrous whole 
Of all creation seeks an unknown goal! 


And man, proud man, finds not abiding place! 
Moving from birth to death in life's swift race, 
Impelled by forces that he cannot know 
He enters life, and on impelled to go 
From infancy to age, where grief and pain 
And memories alone companion him; 

Thence onward drawn 

Through the dark gates of death, to the unknown. 


Where is the mighty magnet that enthralls 
Suns, planets, systems, galaxies of worlds, 

And holds them, leashed with most stupendous 
power, 

That they stray not from given paths, nor move 
Unchecked by that strong grasp omnipotent? 
Whose influence touches e'en the minute world 
Of atoms, stirring them to wild unrest? 

[ 41 ] 


Somewhere, amid the vast ethereal space 
Where universes swing with spheric rhythm, 
And wide eternities in cycles trace 
Duration’s endless reign; 

Beyond the scope of man’s small, finite mind, 
Beyond his wildest dream of amplitude, 

Abides the goal of all created things— 

Power underived and limitless: God! 


[42] 


THE MOUNTAIN REGION OF 
NORTH CAROLINA 

O wondrous land of beauty rare! 

O spot of earth like Eden fair! 

Thy scenes can thrill the inmost soul, 

And through it rapt emotions roll, 

That lift the heart from earth apart, 

Like dreams of Heaven. 

In ages past, with mighty thoes, 

Mid lava-flood and fiery glows 
Of agony, thy hills were born; 

Thy mountains leaped into form 
With thun’drous sounds that shook Earth’s 
bounds,— 

Her travail moan. 

O mystery, that all we know 
Of life, love, beauty, here below; 

All that makes Earth to Heaven akin 
Must come to us through gates of pain! 

And Nature’s dower hath suffering’s hour 
With it e’er given. 

Now on those heights soft shadow lies, 

And sapphire tints and amber dyes 

Are mingling where the dome-like steeps 

Tower heavenward through the azure deeps; 

Or wreathing clouds with white mists fold 
Those sun-kissed summits green and gold, 

Then sink to rest upon thy breast 
In benison. 

Nature in loving lavishment 

Thy wild, grand beauty here hath blent 

And garmented with summer’s grace, 

And semi-tropic lovliness, 

[ 43 ] 


In softest tints of leaf and flower 
Of tangled wold, and sylvan bower, 

Of vines that cling, and droop and fling 
Their festoons fair. 

Through emerald vales of softest sheen, 

Low nestling thy heights between, 

Thy murmuring river’s rhythmic flow 
Makes music ever soft and low; 

While fountains flash and cascades dash 
Within thy dells, 

Where mock-birds through the long, bright days 
Trill forth their sweet impassioned lays; 

Or when pale moonlight floods the sky, 

And night-winds breath their perfumed sigh— 
Kissed by white-lipped magnolia flowers 
And fragrant honey-suckle bowers— 

Then softly still their sweet notes thrill 
The vibrant air. 

The muses dwell within thy glades, 

And dryads dance where fall thy shades 
At misty morn or sunset’s glow; 

And in thy waters’ gentle flow 
Bright naiads play when close of day 
Brings mystic spells. 


[ 44 ] 


TO THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER 


AT ITS ANNUAL FLOOD TIDE 

Thou livest, thou hast a soul! 

O waters deep and wide! 

Thy heart throbs as thy dark waves roll, 
Thou swelling, restless tide! 


[ 45 ] 


A FRAGMENT OF JUNE 


A stretch of blending tints of green, 

Of sward and trees, and bloomy sheen; 

The mingling blue of sapphire skies, 

And fleecy clouds and purple dyes; 

While over all lies fold on fold 
Of summer sunshine’s shimmering gold. 
Sweet-scented breezes, lingering, play 
Where regal roses bow and sway. 

The wine of life in loam and air; 

The whir of winged life everywhere; 

While Heaven leans low and spills soft gleams 
Of glory, while Earth thrills and dreams 
Beneath the touch, and wakes to swoon 
Again in joy. ’T is mystic June. 


[ 46 ] 


POEMS OF PATRIOTISM 













\ 


















































































THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

{In the Spanish-American War) 

So brave! So proud! He makes his home 
Where snow-clad peaks pierce the far sky, 
And the wild winds untrammeled roam 
Round God’s great piles of grandeur high. 
He meets unmoved the thunder’s shock, 
And loves the lightning’s flash; all free 
Glad things of earth that mock 
The coward hand of tyranny. 

From where Pacific’s blue waves break 
In spray around her palm-plumed isles, 
Then lose themselves in sleep to wake 
Where California’s sunlight smiles; 

To where Atlantic’s billows bring 
Wealth-laden ships from many lands, 

And sweeping far to southward fling 
Their foam on Porto Rico’s sands; 

He holds in trust from Freedom’s hand 
The holy gift of liberty, 

And o’er the sea and our broad land 
Keeps watch and ward unceasingly. 

With calm disdain he saw afar 

The sordid strife that greed oft waged, 
And grappling nations mad with war 
O’er petty plots of earth enraged. 

But when he stretched his great wings wide 
To succor those whom tyrants spoiled, 
And left his crags a time to bide 

Where farthest seas grew battle roiled, 
He sought the foe within his lair, 

And crushed him creeping from his den, 
And swept his ships from ocean where 
They floated filled with chains for men. 

[ 49 ] 


No greed of gain nor lands, the goal 
For which he left his tranquil height, 
Nor lust of power stirred in his soul, 

Nor coiled its influence round his might. 
The strength of God was in his stroke, 
The fire of Heaven was in his eye, 

And ’neath his wing the isles awoke 
To life, and hope, and liberty. 

O Bird of Heaven, with stainless wing, 
Throned on thine eyrie as of yore, 

The world is watching as you bring 
Sweet peace to many an island shore. 
Still keep, while fleeting centuries fly, 

Your deathless watch o’er land and sea, 
’Neath the eternal stars on high, 

As faithful and as free as they. 


[ 50 ] 


COLUMBIA AND UNIVERSAL PEACE 


While Columbia sits empearled 
’Twixt her oceans wide and free, 

And her stainless flag unfurled 
Guards the heights of liberty, 

Shall she weave the bonds of peace 
That shall bind the world in one, 

Until all dread wars shall cease 
In all lands beneath the sun? 

Bind the treaties firm and true— 

Truth and Right are ever just— 

Let the law of love renew; 

Loose the world from rancor’s rust. 

Bonds of unity and peace, 

Whose strong strands shall ever hold 

Shore to shore, will yet compass 
All the earth in peaceful fold. 

Smoke of battles shrouds the past; 

Fire and carnage, hate and woe. 

Stop the war fiend’s reign; at last 
Stay the red blood-river’s flow! 

All God’s promises are sure, 

Though the centuries o’er them heap 

Blood and ruin, doubt and death, 

And the putrid harvests reap. 

Swift the years draw ever on 
To the bright millennial day; 

Lo! we see the signs of dawn 

Gleaming o’er earth’s darkened way! 

Faint the glimmering light appears 
Through the rifts of battle smoke, 

Through the anguish and the tears, 
Through the dungeon dust outshook; 

[ 51 ] 


Paint where greed of pelf and power 
Blinds the sight with selfish lust, 
Till the soul looks up no more 
From its paltry heaps of dust; 

But the light shall lift and grow 
Into splendor of the day; 

And the nations then shall know 
Christ has come to reign for aye. 


[ 52 ] 


OUR COUNTRY 


Fair lies our land, oh, fair and free I 
Wide stretched she links sea unto sea, 

With hill and plain and fertile lea, 

Where lavish plenty lies. 

With mountains high and yellow sands, 

Deep mines of gold, and iron bands 
That grip her hills with giant hands; 

With emerald seas of corn and wheat 
Where western winds sing low and sweet; 
And snowy fields of cotton white, 

Beneath the Southland’s warmth and light. 
With sweeps of spaces wide and bare; 

And homes of love and cities fair, 

Safe nestled in sweet freedom’s air; 

With belted zones of varying climes 
Where nature strikes her changing chimes— 
Close linked for aye, and ever leal 
To God, to freedom, to her weal,— 

This land of great emprise. 

Now from our proud and lofty height, 

The splendors of our noontide light, 

And wealth and dominance and might, 

With world-wide homage thrilled— 

With freedom planted on the isles 
Empearled where Carib slumbering smiles, 

Or tempest-torn his white foam piles; 

With ships that guard the farthest seas, 

And flags afloat where the Orient breeze 
Spice-laden stirs the tropic trees; 

With marvelous things by science wrought 
And wondrous wealth of brawn and thought, 
With which the century is fraught, 

The years with knowledge filled; 

’T is well to pause amid the glow 
Of pride and power, to turn and throw 
[ 53 ] 


A glance far back across the snow 
Of vanished years, and see 
A hero band, unhoused, unfed, 

At Valley Forge: hills strewn with dead, 

Or half clad men that silent row 
Across an ice gorged river’s flow, 

Through gloom and night to find the foe.. 
Through winter winds and cold they stain 
With bloody footprints hill and plain, 

In marches where those torn feet press 
Unbroken snow and wilderness. 

Or faint and worn with strain and stress 
When death and danger ’round them throw 
Their terrors in the conflict’s glow; 

Mid battle smoke, and blood, and woe, 
Through storms of shot and steel they go, 
For love of liberty. 

And he, the leader of that band 
Of patriots: strong and true, and grand, 

In heart and life, we see him stand! 

Our Washington! The light, the life, 

The soul of that heroic strife 
That gave our nation birth. 

He who refused a sovereign’s sway 
And monarch’s crown, and chose to be 
The patriot leader of the free! 

Did he with prophet’s eye look down 
The coming years and see the crown 
With which we crown him here tonight? 

A people’s love, which glows more bright, 
Nor pales before the focused light 
Poured o’er it from time’s cycling flight, 
The holiest crown of earth. 

Oh, love we well our fair free land! 

And honor we that patriot band 
And him whose faithful guarding hand 
Led them to victory! 

[ 54 ] 


Inspired of God to deeds sublime, 

He lighted on the wastes of time,, 

The torch whose gleams touch every clime 
He reared on our unconquered strand 
The arch of freedom, firm to stand 
Till all the world be freedom-spanned! 

And to the winds of heaven he gave 
Our flag triumphant, thus to wave 
Forever o’er the free and brave! 

Now for this deathless destiny, 

And glorious centuries yet to be, 

We’ll hold that flag unstained and free. 
We’ll trace upon those folds of light, 

Where e’er they float in ether bright, 

God, and Our Country for the Right, 

Our Flag and Liberty! 


[ 55 ] 


COLUMBUS 

(Written October, 1892) 

When, leaving Palos’ port behind, 

Thy sails were spreading wide and free, 

What thoughts, Columbus, thronged thy mind? 

What visions rose before thine eye? 

Rose like a mirage, o’er the crest 
Of widening seas, the land that lay 
Far sleeping in the mystic west— 

To whom thy touch would bring the day 
Whose sun should brighter grow for aye? 

When on the waste of waters wide, 

Beneath strange skies, where strange stars burned; 
And weird winds o’er that unknown tide 
Swept, from dim wastes of waves that yawned:— 
When wan grim faces, blanched with fear, 

Closed round thee with dark threats of death, 
Rose then that vision, dauntless seer, 

That drew thee o’er that viewless path, 

All things to brave in that long quest,— 

The land in those wide seas impearled, 

Far sleeping in the mystic West 
Where freedom’s banner, high unfurled, 

Should greet the homage of the world? 

Now we who reap the utmost gain 
Of all thy toil, bring here our meed 
Of honors due, when thou hast lain 
Long centuries among the dead: 

Thy tireless brain, heart true and brave, 

Thy pleading tongue, have long been dust, 

And even the chain that envy gave 
Has crumbled into linkless rust. 

Thy dauntless spirit, free for aye, 

Hast roamed the heights of God afar; 

Through grander realms hast been thy way 
Through seas of light, from star to star, 

Where naught thy glorious path can bar! 

[ 56 ] 


WASHINGTON* 


Blest he whose natal day we celebrate, 

With love and honor on his memory wait— 

The hero, warrior, patriot who gave 
His best to give us freedom; who refused 
To wear a crown, or hold a monarch’s sway; 
And through dark years of strife led on the way 
To victory, and peace and liberty. 

Our Washington! While time endures and day 
Shall follow night, his memory will be 
Revered, and loved, and honored by the free. 

Today we stand with unknown perils near, 
Strangely unlike those far off days of war— 
Great nations shaken, trembling to the core, 

Are wildly grappling in red seas of gore; 

Mad with hate’s rivalry, to vengeance sworn; 
Earth, sea and sky with their fierce combats torn; 
Now the red hand of war reaching from far 
Throws its dread shadow on our peaceful shore. 

And we, the daughters of our patriot sires, 

Would keep our altars bright with patriot fires 
And love of country; of the pure and true 
In heart, and home, and nation; and renew 
Again, and yet again, our vows to be 
Faithful to our loved land and liberty. 

God of the patriot’s hope, the patriot’s faith, 
Lord of the mysteries of life and death, 

Guide thou our ship of state in safety o’er 
The roused waters, while the storm-clouds lower; 
Be thou our pilot still, and keep us true 
To thee, to right, and to the mission high 
Thou gavest to our fair land ’neath freedom’s sky. 

* Read at banquet given by Dorothy Quincy Chapter 
D. A. R., February 22, 1914. 

[ 57 ] 


Still o’er the strand Columbia’s hand, stretched 
high, 

Holds out the beacon light of liberty, 

Of honor, right, and justice for the world; 

And when the flags of war fore’er are furled 

And peace shall reign 

Life, liberty, and knowledge shall attain 

To more and more, as the glad years roll on 

In love and harmony beneath the sun. 


[58] 


QUEEN OF THE WEST 


Thou sittest by the saltless sea 

Whose billows dash against thy piers, 
Where erst they rolled unfettered, free, 

Upon the shore in other years. 

Thy marble piles and massive walls 
Gleam in the sunlight proud and high; 

Fair are thy domes and pillared halls; 

Thy towers touch the arching sky. 

Thy commerce spreads from sea to sea, 

Winds waft and waves thy burdens bear; 
Steam brings the wealth of earth to thee, 
From distant climes and wide plains near; 
The busy mart, the crowded ways, 

And cosmopolite throngs are thine: 

That others gain with length of days 
To thee has come in youth’s bright time. 

Thou art a Queen! Columbia’s hand 
Hath crowned thee with a laurel crown, 
And chosen thee from a sister band 
Of cities fair—of bright renown— 

To make for her a wondrous thing, 
Wondrous in beauty, art, and grace; 

That all earth’s nations gathering 
Within thy walls shall join to praise. 

From looms of Eastern industry, 

From Western grainfields waving wide, 
From Northern lakes to Gulf-stream free, 
From mountain-peak to ocean tide, 

From all Columbia’s broad, free land 
The fairest and the best shall be 
Inwoven by thy magic hand 
In splendid structure fair to see. 

* Written when Congress decided to give the World’s 
Fair of 1893 to Chicago. 

[59] 


Queen city of Columbia’s land, 

Let Honor all thy counsels guide— 

Let Justice ever with thee stand, 

And Truth and Right with thee abide: 
Then as the centuries on shall roll 
Thine still shalt be a deathless fame, 
And linked for aye, on Honor’s scroll, 
Columbia’s and Chicago’s name. 


[60] 


STEADY, O SHIP OP STATE!* 

Steady, O ship of state! 

Dangers are nigh! 

Perils around thee wait, 

Almost thy keel they grate; 

Steady, O ship of state! 

Billows are high! 

God be thy pilot now, 

Now as of yore; 

Guide still thy stately prow 
Far from each hidden foe, 

Guide where safe channels flow, 

Now evermore. 

* Written just before America went into the World War. 


[61] 


TO THE STATUE OF GEORGE ROGERS CLARK 


(IN RIVERVIEW PARK, QUINCY, ILLINOIS) 

Bronze image of a patriot soul, 

In posture proud thou standest ever, 
Where at thy feet in grandeur roll 
The waters of our regal river. 

And bathed in freedom’s sunlit air 
Lie bay and isle in tranquil grace, 

While fertile plains of plenty near, 

Stretch wide in billowy fruitfulness. 

And nestled safe amid her bluffs 

And bowering trees, neath bending skies 
That catch their azure from God’s blue 
Immensity, in beauty lies 

The city; with swift hurrying feet, 

And marts of trade, and commerce free, 
And cosmopolite ways that meet 
And blend in peaceful rivalry. 

Thou art the image of a soul 

Who braved the cold and waters deep, 
And armed foes, and march of toil, 

To win this fair land for our keep. 

Not his the splendor of our way,— 

Flags far afloat, to empire grown— 

His was the troublous yesterday 

That laid the deep foundation stone 

Whereon we build. Not his the joy 
Of heritage, of wealth, and power, 

The grand achievements of our day; 
Marvelous attainments of the hour. 

[ 62 ] 


He wrought his work. Ah, did he see 
Far down the years, how it would grow, 
And grow to splendid destiny, 

And height of fame? Ah, could he know! 

Stand ever by the rolling river, 

Bronze image of that patriot soul; 

May vandal hands disturb thee never, 

Nor war’s dread terrors round thee roll. 

Fore’er while flows our regal river, 

Forever till the sun grows cold— 

While men love freedom. Yea, forever! 

May peace our fair, free land enfold. 


[63] 


MY BOYS IN KHAKI* 


When Freedom, trembling, reeled before the foe 
And called in peril dire across the foam— 
Called to her sons afar for succor, lo! 

She heard the quick response flash back: We 
come! 

Swift o’er the waves we speed by day and night, 
Eager we follow where our colors go; 

With hearts athrob for liberty and right. 

Hear now, our bugle blast and martial drum! 

Danger and death we dare where billows sweep 
Wild o’er their leagues with fierce tempestuous 
might: 

Where murderous U-boats haunt the mine-strewn 
deep, 

And thick lie splintered wrecks in Ocean’s keep. 
We come where cruel, devastating Huns 

Stride rampant o’er the shorn and shackled 
lands, 

Or burrowing deep in earth their deadly guns 
Send shot and shell o’er lea and ocean strands: 

We come, we come to set the nations free 
And give the world Justice and Liberty. 
Foremost among those sons of hero-blood 

To answer Freedom’s call, my boys in khaki 
stood, 

Four knights of freedom’s army there enrolled; 
One veteran soldier brave, and three of younger 
mold 

Swift left their books and school at Freedom’s 
cry; 

Like Samuel of old each answered: “Here 
am I!” 

I speak each hero’s name proudly and tenderly. 

* Written at the request of Dorothy Quincy Chapter 
D A R., to be read at open meeting—1917. 

[ 64 ] 


No brave crusaders neath an Orient sky 
Had greater courage in their kindred cause; 
None purer held more stainless banner high, 
Nor truer hearts beat neath those banners there; 
Nor fairer banner waved o’er land or sea 
Than this, our starry flag of liberty. 

None braver fought or won the world’s applause 
Than these, our own true knights beyond the 
sea. 

Then fared forth Freedom’s hosts and hurled the 
foe 

Back to his lair of murder, greed and woe; 
Tore from his grasp the mutilated lands; 

Brought back to hope and home sad exile 
bands. 

Now o’er the seas with Freedom’s armies brave, 
Where floats Old Glory in the sunlight fair, 
And victory perches where our banners wave; 
While treacherous foes bow to our mandates 
there; 

Where torn lands void and wasted, naked lie, 
And ruined cities, villages, and homes 
Give mute appeal under the pitying sky; 

In martyred France where duty holds and 
guides, 

One of my boys in khaki still abides. 

God keep our knights in khaki true, 

Shield them when dangers round them press; 
Their strength of purpose still renew, 

And when temptation’s baleful lure 
Would lead astray, oh, keep them pure! 

O Father, guide, protect, and bless 
Our boys in khaki far away; 

Thine arms of love and tenderness 
Keep round our heroes night and day, 

Until, with victory crowned, they come 
Again to happiness and home. 

[ 65 ] 


WHEN GOD COMMANDS 


(Written in 1916) 

Low hang the lurid clouds of war, 

Loud burst the deafening sounds that fill 
The astounded heavens ’neath sun and star. 

Where pillaged lands 
Lie heaped with horrors, and the moan 
Of human anguish rises o’er 
The awful din of battle roar, 

And piteous hands 

Outstretched for aid where rapine reigns. 

And earth lies red with crimson stains, 
While mad ambition’s cruel greed— 
Potentiate in form of man— 

Dictates and drives to hellish deed 
His legions in the battle van. 

God is above, Right must prevail, 

Her banner floats o’er all our land, 
Commissioned by high heaven to be 
The torn world’s hope and refuge free, 
For victims of monarchial power, 

Ground ’neath the feet of tyranny. 

Now far across the troubled seas, 

In those sad lands with horrors strewn, 
That banner floats high on the breeze, 

Fair as the glory of the noon. 

While our brave soldiers gathering there 
Pledge all of strength or life to give, 

In earth below, or sea, or air, 

That Right may triumph, Freedom live. 

Brave heroes! In the coming years, 

When shall be writ the story true 
Of these dark days of stress and tears, 

And deeds of valor great and new, 

[ 66 ] 


High in the annals of the brave 
Shall then be told this that ye do 
To save the world from despot hands, 

Make freedom sure for all the lands. 

No knight of old 

Had braver heart, or grander cause 
Than our brave men, who fight to hold 
The world for freedom and for right 
And for all men 
In every land beneath the sun, 

To give them light and liberty 

From pole to pole, from sea to sea. 

How can it be 

That men forego sweet liberty 
And fight the battles of a king, 

And wear the chains that tyrants bring? 

Now freedom’s mighty torrents roll 
In lands across the stormy sea; 

They sweep where despots trod of old; 
Where erst reigned monarchs, men are free! 

I pray ye, men of every blood, 

And men of every brotherhood 

Who bide in this great bounteous land, 
Come! with our heroes take your stand. 

The God of Heaven is with the right, 

The God of Heaven will lend His might, 

And freedom yet will fill the sea, 

The earth, and sky, while liberty 

And peace will brood o’er all the lands 
When God commands. 


[67] 


A PRAYER 


( Written in 1917) 

Send down thy power, O Lord of Heaven, 
That Prussian chains from earth be riven. 

Oh, from Thy throne, great God, look down; 
See how Thine earth lies weltering 
In blood, tortured and tom beneath the sun, 
Blasted and burned, and sown with death, 
And horrors that the Fiend’s worst art 
Conceives and fashions in his heart! 

The great war-lord, ambition-mad, 

Has pledged his soul for crowns and lands— 
His soul firm bound with Satan’s bands— 
Forgetting that the prince of lies 
Can give him naught but promises. 

To sway his scepter o’er the world, 

His flag of death he holds unfurled. 

Honor and truth, justice and right, 

He tramples down; and sows afar 
Intrigue, and treachery, and blight, 

To bring o’er all the world the night 
Of brutal slavery and despair. 

Silence his bold, blasphemous boasts 
That Thou art with him in his deeds 
Of murder, rapine, treachery; 

His lust of power and pomp, that breeds 
Malice and hate, and cruelty, 

That sows the lands with murderous blasts 
And makes Thine earth a blackened waste. 

Thy children pray. Thy people cry 
Unto Thee, Lord. O pitying Christ, 

Come and avenge them speedily. 

Shorten the days. Keep soon Thy tryst, 

[ 68 ] 


Make bare Thine arm, be our defense; 
Come in Thy might, 

Thou who art clothed with majesty, 
“Render the proud a recompense/’ 

His evil machination blight! 

O Lord, our God, whose vengeance is, 
O God, who holds it in Thine hands; 
Thou righteous God, who cannot see 
With thy pure eyes iniquity; 

Make bare Thine arm, come speedily! 
Lift up Thyself, Judge of the earth, 
Strike down the despot with his bands, 
Discomfit him in righteous wrath, 
Judge Thou the spoiler of the lands! 


[ 69 ] 


OUR SOLDIERS* 


From field and desk and mart and tranquil home, 
From north, from south, from east and rugged 
west; 

When sounds the bugle call to arms, they come— 
Of courage and of sacrifice the test— 

Giving what life holds best. 

On tented fields they bide neath southern skies, 
Where hot the semi-tropic sun pours down 
His withering beams, while dry and parched lies 
The scorching land beneath, blistered and 
brown; 

Or by wild winds of tropic tempests torn,— 

From Mexic seas out-borne: 

Or marching through the hot inferno 
Of arid sands, amid brown cacti thorns 
On Mexic deserts drear, they eager go 
To bring lost peace to Mexic valleys low; 

And guard our border homes. 

No braver men climbed with “Mad Anthony” 
The rugged heights by Hudson’s storied wave, 
Nor fought with Wolfe where Quebec’s walls rose 
high, 

Nor held the embattled Pass with Sparta’s 
warriors brave 

When Greece her noblest gave! 

The world is torn with wars; our fair land lies 
Unshadowed by the gloom of battle smoke, 
Still tranquil ’neath her yet unclouded skies: 

The quiet of her peaceful homes unbroke;— 
No war-like edict spoke. 

* Written while our soldiers guarded the border during 
trouble with Mexico, 1916. 

[ 70 ] 


God grant it thus may be, through centuries, 
Kept in His peace, to hold aloft, empearled, 
The light of Truth, and Right, and Liberty, 

And keep the flag of peace and love unfurled 
High o’er the darkened world. 

But if to our loved land there came a foe 
To spoil and devastate, to wreck our homes! 
To lay our cities and our honor low, 

And wrest from us our land and liberty! 

To trample on the free! 

Then would these soldiers rise in seried ranks 
To hurl the invader back, whoe’er he be; 

With strength of free men whose unconquered 
hearts, 

Untamed by fear, unbought by gold or arts, 
Are to America forever true; 

Their battle-cry would ring the welkin through: 
Our homes, and Liberty! 


[ 71 ] 






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POEMS OF FAITH AND ASPIRATION 




I 



LIFE AND THOUGHT 

O Life and Thought, mysterious pair, 

Whence came ye? Through what portals fair 
And bounds of Time, whose limits meet 
The vast Beyond, the infinite? 

O Life and Thought, ye come and dwell 
Awhile in tenements so frail, 

So sorrow-haunted, rent with pain; 

How long ye for the Vast again! 

Why came ye to this sin-cursed earth? 

Why leave God’s amplitude for birth 
To ’prisoned being, narrow bounds, 

And life of man in daily rounds? 

O Life and Thought, we only know 
From God ye came, to Him ye go, 

The whence, the why, His wisdom keeps 
Hid from our ken, in mystery’s deeps. 


[ 75 ] 


THE SOUL’S CRY 


Give me one look into the vast Beyond— 

Or light or dark, or near or far it be,— 
Whither my loved have gone, the true, the fond; 

One fleeting glimpse of that wide realm and still, 
That lies enwrapped in mutest mystery. 

So still! though thronged with warriors, poets, 
kings, 

And Earth’s uncounted hosts who lived to die, 
And passed the moveless glooms that, curtain¬ 
ing, fill 

The spaces where Death’s gate unceasing swings, 
And swinging, weaves its dumb and silent spell. 

My soul peers forward with desire intense 
Into that awful stillness, calls afar, 

Where have ye gone, sweet friends who journeyed 
hence, 

And left me standing dazed, bereft, alone? 
What lengthening leagues of space infinite bar 
Us soul from soul, through which I cannot fly? 
Not e’en an echo from that soundless shore 
Floats back to cheer with its delusive tone: 
But deeps of silence guard the mystery 

Of death, which holds away from me mine own. 

Where dies the cadence of that anguished call, 
That never answer comes to solace woe? 

In what lone reaches does it unheard fall?— 
Far bleaker than Siberian wastes of snow. 
Breaks that wrung cry against dark walls of fate 
In gulfs of black annihilation dread? 

Must hope and yearning for the light but wait 
On deeps of darkness and the worm’s low bed? 
OLife! OLove! O Death! whose three-fold bands 
Entwine around me with mysterious power, 

Ye draw me captive o’er Time’s desert sands 
That stretch away into—the never more? 

[ 76 ] 


Lo! Through the murky shades of deepening 
night 

I see a form with gleaming wings outspread, 

And eyes where hope and joy commingling light. 
And feet that e’en Earth’s drearest paths can 
tread. 

I stretch my hand to her down-reaching hand, 

I take Faith’s guidance through the Stygian 
gloom: 

Behold! God’s heights eternal yonder stand, 
Beyond the sullen shadows of the tomb: 

O Life! O Love! O Death! whose three-fold bands 
Entwine around me with mysterious power, 

Draw me more swiftly o’er Time’s desert sands, 
For Death unfetters Life. And Love lives ever¬ 
more I 


[ 77 ] 


THE PILOT’S REPLY 


“O Pilot, who guides us 
O’er Life’s stormy sea, 

I have lost my fair treasures. 
Can’st find them for me?” 

—OLD SONG 


I have found thy lost treasures on Life’s stormy 
sea, 

I have gathered them safely, will keep them for 
thee. 

When they floated away from my trembling grasp, 

I caught them and bore them above the rude blast 

And the wild tempest’s rage: they are safe ever¬ 
more, 

Thou wilt find them again when thou reachest the 
shore. 


Thy Youth bright and joyous, more glorious and 
fair, 

Is crowned with Immortelles awaiting thee there. 
Gaze not so despairingly out on Life’s sea: 

It is not drifting there. If thou only couldst see 
The bright haven beyond, thou wouldst murmur 
no more, 

But, with sails all unfurled, press on to the shore. 


The beauty that followed thy Youth far away, 
Will be kept fresh and fair through all the bright 
day, 

That to thee will be measured in years here below. 
Thy brow may be furrowed, thy locks turned to 
snow, 

But beauty immortal is kept for thee there, 

[ 78 ] 


Undimmed by Life’s tears, unfaded by care. 

Thy bright Hope, when thou findst it again, will 
have grown 

To a brighter fruition; and though all unknown, 
It is guiding thee onward, through darkness and 
gloom, 

To the life that is bright with fruition’s fair bloom. 


[ 79 ] 


A DREAM 


My bark was on a tranquil sea 

Whose light waves rose and fell, 

While perfumed breezes softly swept 
From isles whose lotus flowers slept. 

The moon swung in the sapphire height 
And bathed the sea in argent light, 

And threw her mystic spell 
Adown the corridors of night; 

And thou wert with me; side by side, 

My hand close clasped in thine, 

We floated o’er the gleaming tide 
In sweet content thus to abide, 

Till on some far-off blissful shore 
Our bark should rest forevermore. 

The world and care we left behind, 

Its vexing strife and noise; 

Naught stirred around save the soft wind 
And gentle waves; above, there shined— 
Through all the flooding radiance white, 

With steady, pure, unchanging light, 

And an eternal poise,— 

The quenchless star of Hope and Love; 

Shone like a beacon from above. 

* * * 

The foam-capped waves rolled vast and high, 
Lashed by the wild wind’s force; 

Thick darkness veiled the changed sky, 

Where swirled aloft a canopy 
Of black winged clouds,—storm’s high ensign 
Till torn with many a jagged line 
Of the red lightning’s course, 

They trailed to meet the seething brine. 

The mighty thunders round us spake! 

From the black depths above, below, 

Terrific echoes answered back, 

[ 80 ] 


While tortured waves told out their woe. 
My frail bark rode those billows high— 
Then dashed to depths dark as despair! 

I called thy name in agony! 

But called in vain, thou wert not there! 
Gone was the star of Hope and Love! 

No light gleamed on me from above, 

Alone! alone on that wild sea 
Of tempest, death, and destiny! 

Then knelt I to the God of Love, 

Invoked His mighty power, 

And raised my suppliant hands above, 

To Him whom storms nor billows move. 
The phantom mists, piled fold on fold, 

In sullen silence backward rolled, 

In that weird, awful hour; 

Then through a rifted cloud there gleamed 
A radiance brighter than the day! 

Far o’er the storm-tossed waves it streamed, 
The light of Immortality! 

I gazed with wonder, joy, and awe, 

And, as I gazed, it brighter grew, 

Till through its shining bars I saw 
The blissful shore, the far-off land; 

And thou wert there, thy form I knew; 
While soft and clear, high o’er the strand, 
Shone like a beacon light above, 

The quenchless star of Hope and Love! 


[ 81 ] 


CHRISTMAS BELLS 


The year is old, the winds blow cold, 
And in the sky, all silently, 

The stars keep watch. 

The crescent moon hangs low and soon 
Will sink from sight. O jewelled night, 
Thy splendors catch 
A radiance from the centuries borne. 
Hark to the sound of bells around! 

Now far, now near, now soft, now clear. 
Ring on, ring on, O joyous bells, 

And with your verberating peals 
We catch again the angels’ song, 

Still interluding with your swells: 
“Peace! 

Peace on earth! Good will! Good will!” 

O wondrous night on Judea’s hills! 
Full-jewelled gleams the silent sky; 

A thrilling hush all nature fills, 

While angel hosts, still drawing nigh, 
Good tidings bring, of Christ our King. 

O glorious throng! O wondrous song! 
Whose echoes still the centuries thrill! 
“Peace! 

Peace on earth! Good will! Good will!” 

Ring on! Ring on! O joyous bells! 

And with your verberating peals 
We catch again the angels’ song, 

Still interluding with your swells: 

“Peace! 

Peace on earth! Goodwill! Goodwill!” 


[ 82 ] 


CHRISTMAS MUSINGS 
1899 

The century dies, he is old and wise, 

Yet he cannot stay. 

But his dying gift shall the world uplift, 

Of men who dare—with a purpose rare— 

Great deeds and true, that heroes do; 

And lend their might for the cause of Right 
And the love of Truth, and tender ruth 
For humanity. 

We stand in the grey of the morning, 

And wait for the promise it holds: 

The light of a century, dawning, 

Will soon flash through Time’s mystical folds. 
The years will have gifts in their keeping, 

Folded up, that we never may guess 
If they hold for us joy, or weeping, 

If they come to bring woe, or to bless. 

Now swells the song of victory strong, 

O’er land and sea, 

From Freedom’s hosts on far off coasts. 

While Isles that lie ’neath an Orient sky, 

And those that sleep by the Carib deep,— 

Where despots trod, through wastes of blood,— 
Send up on high th’ exulting cry 
Of Liberty! 

Pale captives come out of the dungeons, 

From darkness, and dust of the dead. 

Struck down is the hand of the Tyrant, 

The Isles fear no longer his tread. 

The world saw with cynical wonder 
Columbia’s legions arise, 

To rend his foul fetters assunder 

From victims whose moan pierced the skies. 

[ 83 ] 


Sweep on! Sweep on, from centuries gone, 
Sweet Christmas tide! 

While angels sing, let joy bells ring; 

O’er sea and land swell the anthem grand; 
Bring love, and peace, and war’s surcease; 
Bring truth, and right, and the fuller light, 
And the living Christ to His promised tryst, 
To reign, and guide! 


[ 84 ] 


FOR THE PHILATHEA BANQUET 


Dear friends, we welcome you tonight! 

Our hearts are warm, our friendship true, 

As in those other springtides bright, 

When we together met as now. 

And now, as then, the skies are blue, 

While other wild flowers deck the hills, 

And other violets peep through 
The grasses by the purling rills; 

But the same stars shone in the sky 
That shine tonight; we’ll let them be 
Emblems of our fidelity. 

Our motto bids us do the things, 

The helpful things, Christ would approve; 

To soothe the sad heart’s sorrowing 
With blest assurance of God’s love. 

Give touch of joy to joyless lives 
Environed by dark circumstance, 

Where neither love nor hope survives 
The bitterness of life’s mischance. 

With Charity’s soft mantle white, 

Broad as the bending arch of heaven— 

To veil mistakes, and faults that blight; 

To carry hope, and strength, and light 
To souls adrift, tempted and driven. 

To be! To live! To do! To dare! 

To help the great world’s upward lift 
Toward heights of Truth and Right, that fair 
Lie beckoning where the shadows rift; 

While gleams of glory through them sift— 
Gleams from the light of that fair day 
When Right shall rule, and Peace hold sway. 
No earthly meed of pomp or praise, 

Nor brazen trumpet’s noisy blare 
Is ours: we seek the quiet ways, 

Our Lord’s aproval, and His care: 

Though oftimes weary hands have wrought, 


And weary brains their offering given, 

And feet have lagged while hearts still sought 
To garner one more sheaf for heaven. 

The radiant splendor of the night. 

The flooding glory of the day, 

Repeating miracles, as earth 

Spins ceaseless on her star-strewn way, 

With robes of changing loveliness, 

In all surpassing grace of flow, 

From summer’s warmth and bloom and light, 

To winter’s glittering ice and snow, 

While every season’s pageant bright, 

The spring’s soft hues, and autumn’s glow, 

Are endless rounds of one bright whole, 
Resplendent time-piece of the Lord, 

Swift measuring off the fleeting years 
That draw toward the promised goal, 

To bring fulfillment of His word 
And the surcease of sin and tears. 


[ 86 ] 


MEMORY’S HOUR 


The fire burns low, 

The flickering flame 
Leaps up, then dies amid the glow; 

The shadows gather in the room. 

I sit alone amid the gloom: 

Alone? Ah, no, for heart and brain 
Are busy with the past; its light 
And hopes, and joys, have come again 
At memory’s call tonight. 

And long lost friends, whose tired hands 
Were folded years ago, are near; 

And while with loving smile, 

As in the olden days we meet, 

The hour grows bright with memory s light, 
While past and present greet;— 

The years of womanhood roll back— 

So fraught with care and pain;— 

I tread again youth’s flowery track, 

Its joys live o’er again. 

I’d not exchange for banquet hall, 

Or revelry’s false mirth, 

This tranquil hour, and memory s power, 
Beside my quiet hearth, 

And watching here the firelight fade 
To live again my past,— 

The happy past, that could not last, 

But all too soon has fled; 

Its friends, its hopes and joys, now all 
Are numbered with the dead. 


[87] 


A REVERIE 


The years have flown so fast away, 

The fleeting years that would not stay: 
So soft they tread, and silent glide, 

With aye some joy swept from our side! 
Lightly we held it yesterday— 

And thought to hold it thus alway:— 

My glad, sweet youth they stole from me, 
And dreams of earthly bliss to be: 

Vainly I sought to stay those dreams 
So interwove with Hope’s bright gleams! 

Sweet babes were mine to love and hold, 
Dearer than all Earth’s treasures told; 
The voiceless years sped softly by— 

As falls the snow, so silently. 

They took my babes and gave me boys, 
Bright, loving, full of life and noise. 

I clasped my boys to keep, and then 
They changed them into bearded men. 
And now the wide world calls them far 
Where toil and life’s ambitions are. 

And still the weird years come and go 
And work their changes, mystic, slow. 
Still mutely, silently, they weave 
Their spell on all I love, nor leave 
Untouched one treasure of my heart; 
Relentless years, with wizard’s art! 

Come back to me, 

Lost yesterday! 

And bring my boys 
With romp and noise; 

With hair wind-blown 
And careless thrown 
From brows bared to the summer sun. 
With eyes alight 
Like stars of night, 

[ 88 ] 


And cheeks aglow 
With youth’s swift flow; 

Sweet childish voices loud or low, 

And restless feet 
From dusty street, 

Or wet from wading in the brook 
To find the minnow’s hidden nook; 

With hands that stain the window pane— 
Or dripping with the summer rain. 

I will not chide 
If they will bide 
With me again. 


[89] 


A MEMORY OF THE WORLD’S FAIR 
CHICAGO, 1893 

The soft, golden haze of a summer that fled, 

In shimmering grace o’er the vision is shed; 

A vision so fair, of a city that gleams 
In Memory’s light like a mirage of dreams, 

With towers, and domes, and white sculptured 
walls, 

And temples, pagodas, and great pillared halls; 
And facades, and arches of burnished light, 

And grottos and shrines in soft semi-night, 

And bowers of bloom from palm-lands afar, 

And spice trees that grew ’neath the tropic star; 
And fountains aflash, and white ships at rest, 
And a sleeping lagoon by soft winds caressed. 

A city bestrewn with the world’s best thought, 
And its Dreamers’ dreams of beauty enwrought, 
She sat by the side of the passionate sea, 

That stirred to its depths of mystery ; 

The opaline waves reached out their white hands 
And swooned at her feet on the glistening sands. 

The days drifted by like an enchanted dream, 
And night was transformed with a splendor 
supreme, 

In that city ablaze with its genii-light, 

And scintillant crown than the stars more 
bright— 

While the radiance that swept and spanned the 
dusk steep, 

And lighted afar the foam crested deep, 

Caught the lone white moon in its tangling light, 
As she slowly sailed through the sapphire height. 
O calm, starry spheres that looked down on those 
gleams! 

O white moon that bathed in those dazzling 
streams! 

[90] 


Are ye sorrowful now that they come no more, 
And your light falls alone on the darkened shore? 

O passionate sea, with your heaving breast, 

And opaline waves that cannot rest, 

Lave the shore in your search for the city of light. 
Leap, high-crested waves, in your eager quest 
For the beautiful city so full of delight, 

That sat by your side through a summer blest. 

Winds that whirled in wild glee through the mazy 
ways, 

In those ’wildering nights, and those joyous days, 
Wail and moan, as ye sweep o’er the lonely plain, 
For the marvelous city that comes not again! 


[91] 


DREAMING 


The soft, green velvet sward beneath; 
Above, the blue, blue arching sky, 

Where the white clouds go floating free, 
Floating, floating toward the sea; 

The whispering breezes stir the trees, 

And kiss the fragrance from the flowers, 
While drowsily hum the yellow bees 
Their love-song all the golden hours. 

The purple distance melts away, 

The yellow fields are ripe with grain, 

And where the golden sunbeams lay, 

A shimmering haze broods o’er the plain; 
The soft, sweet calm my being fills; 

Loosed are the bonds of burdening care, 

And yielding to the mystic spell 
I dreaming lie—by soft winds fanned, 

And all the world is lotus land. 

Nor soft green sward, nor blue, blue, sky, 
Nor whispering breeze, nor fragrant flowers, 
Nor humming bees through golden hours, 
Have aught of care—then w T hy should I? 
And so I let the world go by, 

With all its cares, and strife, and noise; 
And dreaming lie, by soft winds fanned, 

And all the world is lotus-land. 

Sweet airy dreams that come and go, 

As float the clouds along the sky; 

Soft mingling of the long ago, 

The present, and the yet to be, 

Of vanished dreams, and loves that long 
Have slumbered with the silent dead; 

With here and there prophetic gleams, 

Of fadeless joys, beyond life’s dreams, 

[ 92 ] 


And glimpses of some brighter sphere, 
Where yet shall meet in perfect bliss, 
The sundered hearts and hopes of this. 
And so I let the world go by, 

With all its sordid strife and noise,— 
Let others grasp its bauble toys; 
Content I dream, by soft winds fanned, 
And all the world is lotus land. 


[93] 


THE SPIRIT WORLD 


“For now we see through a glass darkly; 
but then face to face.” 

Could our eyes but pierce the gloom, 
What of beauty, what of bloom, 
Would unfold! 

Could our ears be oped to hear, 

What a world of music near, 

All untold! 

All the ambient summer air 

Filled with forms and beings fair; 
Strains too soft for mortal ears, 

Music of the whirling spheres. 

Earth to Heaven is very near, 

Could we only see and hear. 


[ 94 ] 


HAIL! FAREWELL!—H AIL! 


On the fair slopes of life we met, 

Where the pink dawn crept o'er the sea, 
When life was young:—Ah, Life is ever young. 

Life, Love and Joy age not, die not; eternity 
Is theirs. Though through low vales of pain 
The soul may creep, where darkness reigns 
Surcharged with woe, it yet shall gain 
The heights of God, and bathed in light 
Live evermore! 


We met and hailed! all jubilant 

With joy of life, and happy circumstance 
That circled us as did the ambient air; 

In those sweet fields that stretch so far, so far, 
E’en to the edge of time, the borders where 
Time meets and merges with the infinite: 

And the dull chrysalis that wraps the soul 

Grows thin, so that the spirit looks clear-eyed 
Into the heart of things, and stirs her wings 
As if for flight. 

We met and hailed, then said farewell! 

Thick, gathering glooms encompassed me; 
Low hung the mists, the sunlight fair 

Was gone. The clouds made dark and drear 
The erstwhile bright encircling day. 

Joy fled, Love wept, Hope trembled where 
She stood, lingering anear and poised for flight— 
On those lone slopes of life I stood! 

Somewhere amid the vast eternities 

We’ll meet again. Somewhere we’ll hail 
In glad surprise; and dawns as bright 

As dawns of June will compass us, while o’er 
the sea „ . 

Will break the Light—the Light of Immortality! 
[ 95 ] 


THE PRESENCE OF JESUS 

Lo, I AM with you all the days, even unto the end. 

—Matthew 28:20 

{Tune: “PleyeVs Hymn”) 

Blessed Presence of the Lord, 

Blest fulfilment of His Word: 

“I am with you to the end,” 

Saviour, Brother, Guide, and Friend. 

When the storms of sorrow fall, 

When the joys of earth shall pall, 

Ever close, our Faithful Friend 
Shall our every state attend. 

Joys of earth are brief and vain, 

Sorrow follows in their train; 

Only God can comfort give, 

Only Christ can bid us live. 

And when rolls the Jordan-tide, 

When we stand its waves beside, 

Lo! our Guide is with us still, 

All His promise to fulfil. 

Blessed Presence of our Lord, 

Blest fulfilment of His Word: 

Jesus with us every day, 

Jesus with us all the way. 


[ 96 ] 


MISCELLANEOUS 





WRITTEN FOR THE FIFTH REUNION OF THE 
GRAHAMS 

Where far Ben Ledi’s towering height 
Lifts in grey crags against the sky, 

And Lock Katrine’s blue waters lie 
Framed in their rugged boundary, 

And flashing in the noonday bright, 

Or shimmering ’neath the golden light 
And tints of sunset dye: 

And by the banks of Loch Achray, 

O’er heath-clad hill, through rocky glen, 

O’er deep morass and treacherous fen, 

Passed the swift feet of armed men, 

When gathering clans rushed to the fray 
In days of feudal fealty, 

Long past beyond our ken. 

As mountain streams mid rocks arise, 

From those wild scenes and years there came 
The dauntless spirit of the Graeme, 

Who linked with Wallace’ deathless name,— 

In Scottish hearts beneath all skies— 

His own, in deeds of high emprise 
On Scotland’s fields of fame. 

How the lost years touch still our lives! 

Lo! from the past a spell is thrown 
O’er all the years that follow on; 

Throbs in what is, that which hath gone! 
Through silent centuries still survives 
The spirit of the past, and strives 
To make its presence known. 


[ 99 ] 


Though now no pibroch leads the host, 

Nor bugle calls the gathering band, 

Nor fiery cross lights through the land, 

With war's alarm and chief’s command 
To bloody fray and danger’s post— 

Where death and carnage is the boast— 

With martial glory spanned, 

Yet hearts with kindred blood still beat, 

And clans yet bound by friendship’s chain, 
Now gathering, clasp warm hands again, 

And sing in old-time rhythmic strain 
The psalms of David, grand and sweet, 

As sang their sires, when praise was meet 
On Scottish hill and plain. 

And the staunch children of the Graeme, 

Still firm in fealty to the Right, 

And swift the threatening foe to smite 
When Wrong’s dark ranks rise in their might 
On Life’s broad field; may proudly claim 
The hero-blood and ancient name 
Of Scotland’s noble knight. 


[ 100 ] 


WRITTEN FOR THE TWENTIETH ANNIVER¬ 
SARY OF THE WOMAN’S CLUB OF 
DOWNER’S GROVE 

Just twenty years ago was born 

The Woman’s Club of Downer’s Grove; 

A living force of high emprise, 

It ’gan in weakness first to move, 

But fed by courage, nursed by faith 

Whose vision pierced with prescient eyes 

The future years, and saw the path 
Of true endeavor upward rise, 

To heights of full attainment grown 
It lives today: its work is known. 

How well it wrought for civic good, 

For intellect and knowledge fair! 

For pure ideals that have withstood 
The evils rife and everywhere! 

And builded well 

A monument of civic pride, 

A force for uplift, reaching far, 

And like the strong unresting tide 

Its influence knows not stay nor bar. 

So potent is a deed or word, 

So lasting, aye so wondrous strong, 

That e’en eternity is stirred 

With earthly deed, or word, or song. 

Each rolling age of time is spun 

From the swift moments passing on; 

Inwoven with the deeds of men, 

Or good or ill, 

Their influence bides eternal still, 

And molds the aeons yet to be; 

Makes glad or mars eternity; 

Out-reaching far 

The limits of the utmost star 

That swings in rhythmic consonance 

With systems in their spheric dance. 

[ 101 ] 


Thought-force and mind are potent still 
Through all the murky clouds of war; 

Or ’stounded heavens, neath sun and star! 
E’en through the greed of war-mad men, 

The hellish cruelty of their deeds— 

Conceived by fiends, 
When man with demon nature blends. 

Then labor on. God is above! 

Still keep ablaze your beacon light, 

Though half the world be torn with wars, 

And rent with ruin, dark and deep. 

Their lurid smoke of battle mars 

The sunlight of our broad land’s sweep: 
Engrave on your escutcheon fair, 

America, and Truth and Right: 

For Right will triumph though the world 
Be sunk betimes in blackest night, 

And Truth be fled 

With Peace and Love, where war holds sway. 
God is above! Right must prevail! 

Her standard floats o’er all our land, 
Commissioned by high Heaven to be 
The torn world’s hope, and refuge free 
For victims of monarchial greed, 

Ground ’neath the feet of Tyranny. 


[ 102 ] 


RESPONSE TO TOAST “THE EASTERN STAR” 

{Read at Washington Banquet, Downer’s Grove ) 

Roll back the cycling centuries! 

Sweep the dark migts of time aside, 

And see in far Judean skies 

The star that rose to be our guide! 

It glows with light, 

While mystic rays of splendor blaze 
Athwart the night. 

And now,—as when on Bethlehem’s plain, 

Where shepherds gazed with rapt amaze, 

It shines again! 

And we have seen that Orient star! 

We caught its gleams of fervid light, 

That flashed from Judean skies afar, 

And follow, as it leads aright, 

“To worship Him,” 

The “Fairest among thousands,” sung, 

A loved theme: 

We stand anear the honored “Square 
And Compass,” too, 

And though our bands are starry strands, 

They bind us true. 


[ 103 ] 


WHAT THE CLOCK SAYS IN THE 
NIGHT WATCHES 

Tick, took, tick, tock, 

The moments are gliding,— 

Time knows no abiding, 

But ever is going 
Like swift waters flowing; 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock, 

The hours are sounding,— 

Their circles still rounding; 

Fast onward they’re speeding, 

No protest e’er heeding; 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock, 

Black night shadows winging, 
Lethean draughts bringing; 

Day rolls into being, 

From coming days fleeting; 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock, 

From birth-time to dying 
The fleet years are flying! 

Nor pleading, nor praying 

Their swift flight e’er staying; 
Tick, tock, tick, tock. 


[ 104 ] 


IN DAYS AGONE 


Where gleam our silent, pointing spires, 

Where shines the glow of household fires 
On altars love has set, 

Where the cold stones of paved street 
Echo the tread of restless feet; 

Here, where sweet nature loves to dwell 
In grove and violet studded dell— 

Roved, but a few short years ago, 

The Redman with his shaft and bow 
And plumed coronet; 

And rude-built wigwams erstwhile stood 
In the cool shadows of the wood, 

Where straggling sunbeams played, 

And great trees tossed their arms in space, 

With nature’s wild and stately grace: 

Here warriors brave, and hunters bold, 

Lived, danced, and hunted in the wold; 

And heard, with silent soul intense, 

Their chieftain’s fervid eloquence, 

That fired their zeal, or stayed. 

The stream that wound its rippling way 
Where, thick with flowers, its green marge lay— 
And round its islets crept, 

Was Indian maiden’s mirror true, 

Where soft reflected with the blue 
Of bending skies, her dark eyes shined 
Like stars of night, when, as she twined 
The bright shells in her floating hair, 

She asked the wave if she was fair, 

As softly by it swept. 


[105] 


Still winds the stream, but Indian maids 
No longer roam these grassy glades, 

And bind their floating hair; 

Still wave green trees, but hunters bold, 

No longer thread the tangled wold, 

And plume-crowned warriors dance no more 
Their war-dance when the day is o’er. 

Hushed is the chieftain’s voice for aye, 

Nor wakens more the woodland way 
With words that thrill the air. 

Oh vanished race! 

How have ye passed from this your place 
In greening glade and dell! 

Passed, leaving but these silent mounds, 
Where we may trace 

Some foot-prints where your feet have sped, 
Some graves wherein ye laid your dead. 
Dumbly before the sweep of doom 
Ye went to silence of the the tomb! 

And if ye strove to stay the flood 
That swept ye from the plain and wood, 

Ye went but swifter to the shore 
Of silence and of never-more, 

While wild winds sang your knell. 


[106] 


TO E. H. D., JR. 


An echo from the past now stirs 
Sweet memories of other years; 

I hear again your shouts of glee, 

And lilting songs, that merrily 
Woke all the ambient stillness round, 

When, freed from school tasks, homeward 
bound, 

All full of youth, and life, and joy 
You came, a carefree happy boy! 

Now manhood’s sterner tasks and story 
Fill heart and brain; somewhat of glory 
Is mingling with these days of care, 

Somewhat of joy is given you there; 

Though some of sorrow, too, you share, 

While work well done, and triumphs gained, 
With much attempted, much attained, 

By faith and hope and love sustained, 

Your life rounds to its perfect day, 

And duty points your onward way. 

Time weaves his changes silently, 

Unceasingly his shuttle flies: 

Or light or dark the pattern be, 

The tones and tints all harmonize, 

And life rounds to its perfect day, 

While duty points your onward way. 


[107] 


A VALENTINE 
(to beth) 

Be ever mine, dear maid, 

My love is warm and glad; 

No other love so true 
Will constant burn for you; 

When skies are grey, 

And joys are few, 

’T will closer stay 
And flame anew! 

Strong mother love that knows 
No change, through changeful years 
Sorrow nor blight, 

Nor death’s dark night, 

Can quench its glow. 

’T will constant shine. 

Be ever mine. 

Your Valentine. 


[108] 


A VALENTINE 
(to ruth) 

I love you now while winter’s wind 
Sighs through the leafless trees, 

And countless glittering fetters bind 
The sleeping earth, who wakes to find 
A soft snow-blanket o’er her pinned; 
While high the burning stars are shrined 
Above the glistening leas. 

I’ll love you when the summer’s glow 
And summer gladness meet; 

When the sweet flowers are nodding low 
Where southern breezes softly blow, 
And happy birds flit to and fro, 

And humming bees slow come and go, 
Mid grass and clover sweet. 

I’ll love you when the world is old; 

Her snows and summers o’er: 

When the long years on years are rolled, 
And all their story has been told. 

In far, bright realms of light I’ll hold 
And love you evermore! 


[109] 


TO J. L. D.* 


Life lies before you; fair and bright 
To youthful eyes its pathway seems; 

Hope throws o’er all its radiant light, 

And hidden quicksands line her path, 

But Pleasure waves her phantom lamp 
Too often o’er the quagmire fen, 

And hidden quicksands line her path 
Where sink the lives and souls of men. 

Take star-eyed Duty for your guide, 

Follow where e’er she leads, through light 
Or shade, what e’er betide; 

Her pathway leads from height to height! 
Bind firmly on your strong right arm 
Bright Truth, and Honor, that your deeds 
May shine like light in darkness thrown, 
Where e’er in life stern Duty leads. 

And though the world may smile or frown, 
What matters it? For sweet Content 
Shall bide with you, and softly crown, 
With peace and joy, each day well spent; 
While upward, still, your footsteps trend 
Unto the heights of God, above, 

Where Christ, your everlasting Friend, 
Waits in His great undying love. 


* On graduating from the University of Michigan. 


[110] 


FRIENDS OF OTHER YEARS 

O friends of other years! 

O loves, and hopes, and fears,— 
Aye! e’en those sighs and tears— 
Come back, come back to me! 
Dark hang the clouds today, 

And sob the winds alway, 

Hope hides her face away. 

Regret bides ever near, 

The years are long and drear, 
Filled all with strife and moil, 
And unrequited toil. 

O friends of other years! 

O loves, and hopes, and fears, 

My heart cries out for you, 

So tender and so true. 


[Ill] 


TO C. E. H. 


I dreamed, sweet friend, that you and I 
Were walking ’neath a summer sky; 

O’er living green our footsteps strayed, 
Where wandering breezes softly played 
Among bright flowers of beauty rare,— 

No blooms of Earth were e’er so fair! 

I felt a subtle mystery 
Throb in the air that circled me. 

And thou, thou wert thyself, yet changed,— 
As one who on far heights had ranged,— 
With brow so calm, no mark of care 
Or taint of earth; thou wert so fair! 

The fire of life burned in thine eyes, 

Paling the light of earth or skies. 

I asked: “What canst thou tell me, dear? 
What hast thou learned in yonder sphere?” 

Thou answerest me: “Love lives beyond 
The gates of death. This I have found.” 

Oh, still thy tones fall on my ears, 

Blent with the music of the spheres. 

I know now that the gates of death, 

The passing of the mortal breath 
And fevered pulse, but frees the soul 
From earthly bonds. 

Forever roll 

God’s worlds on high. Thou hast but gone 
Where life is love, some further on. 

Above earth’s sorrow and its strife, 

Thou livest, dear friend, in fuller life. 


[112] 


TO MRS. L. A., ON HER EIGHTY-FIFTH 
BIRTHDAY 

Long hast thou journeyed on life’s changeful road, 
Through the sweet paths of youth, o’er stony 
steeps 

And oft times shadowed paths of womanhood,— 
Where woman’s faith has kept, and ever keeps, 
Her heart from fainting ’neath its untold fears, 

Its hidden pain, and weight of unwept tears. 

And Love walked with thee too, and made thee 
strong, 

Strong with unmurmuring lips life’s ills to bear; 
While on thy heart and brow was laid a crown, 

A mother’s dual crown of joy and care. 

Ah, me! What deathless love with it is given! 
That dual crown and mother-love from heaven! 

But Death came near and took thy loved away; 
Oh, then a sword pierced through thy woman’s 
soul, 

Of poignant grief; but Faith was still thy stay, 
’Mid waves of woe that round thy heart did 
roll— 

And whispered soft, “Thy loved ones wait for thee, 
In life, and youth, and love’s eternity.” 

Now on the sunset shore of peace and calm 
Thou sittest, and hearest from afar earth’s 
noise and strife, 

While the soft cadence of the old sweet psalm 
Floats round thee as an echo of thy life: 

‘‘The Lord my Shepherd is, by waters still 
He leadeth me; and I will fear no ill.” 


[113] 


The passing years all softly come and go; 

Time leaves no foot-prints on thy spirit high. 
With its eternal youth and hope aglow, 

And conscious of its immortality, 

In blest serenity thy soul abides 

Where shines life’s sunset glow on ebbing tides. 

Still linger on this sunset shore of peace, 

Dear friend, that we may hear thy converse 
sweet, 

And learn how life’s unrestful fevers cease 
When Patience all her work hath wrought 
complete; 

Linger yet with us long, our hearts to bless 
With thy dear presence and thy tenderness. 


[114] 


SYMPATHY 


The subtle sense of finer glow, 

Which waked, can cause the heart to feel 
The hurt which makes another’s woe, 

Is spark divine, God’s holy seal, 

Left in the human soul to prove 
Its origin of God and love. 


[115] 


GREETING ODE* 


Dear friends, we greet you here tonight, 
We give you welcome glad and true: 

Our Orient Star is shining bright, 

And points, with mingled hues alight, 

To Duty’s path, to Truth, to Right, 

To Constancy all sorrow through, 

To Hope and Joy, and Life anew. 

We welcome you with hand and heart, 
Here where our Altar firmly stands; 

Our separate paths, that lead apart— 

In quiet homes, or busy mart, 

Where duty calls, and swift feet start,— 
Converge tonight when clasp our hands, 
Converge and touch for this brief hour, 
Drawn by our loved Star’s mystic power! 


! Read before Vesta Chapter O. E. S., Downer’s Grove, 
occasion of entertaining visiting chapters, May 24, 1894. 
























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